


Carry The Load (And Each Other)

by lilly_the_kid



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Play Fighting, Sharing a Bed, Slice of Life, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21902875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilly_the_kid/pseuds/lilly_the_kid
Summary: Cliff held out his hand. Rick grabbed it and Cliff pulled him up. They were standing very close now. Rick looked to the side and then back a Cliff. "What else c-can you show me?"
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Comments: 14
Kudos: 110
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Carry The Load (And Each Other)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GotTheSilver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/gifts).



> A few glimpses into the earlier years of their relationship.

1960

"Mr. Dalton?" The man in the cowboy outfit turned around. "Yeah?" Cliff held out his hand. "My name's Cliff Booth. I'm your new stunt double."

The other man grabbed his hand and shook it. "My p-pleasure! And call me Rick." "Alright, Rick, call me Cliff. Pleasure's all mine." 

And that's how it began. Cliff liked his new job right from the start. There was actually stuff to do for him and in between he could just sit in the shade and smoke. Pretty sweet deal.

Plus he liked Rick. He couldn't even tell why. He just did. And when things are good it's better not to question them and so he didn't.

He would do his job and he and Rick would talk in between takes and sometimes go out for drinks in the evening. There was something relaxed and easy going about it, as if they had known each other for years. 

After about two months of shooting Cliff arrived on set. He was in costume since he was supposed to do a stunt a little later in the day. He watched Rick shooting a scene and it didn't go well. 

Rick kept messing up his lines and he got more and more flustered. When the director finally yelled cut, Rick was storming off without as much as a glance or a word to anyone. 

Cliff threw down his half smoked cigarette and stepped on it. Then he slowly walked towards Rick's trailer. He was pretty sure that Rick was inside on his way to getting drunk.

He knocked on door. "Hey man, you ok?" There was no answer. He tried the door and it was locked. "Come on, man. Let me in." Still no answer.

He knocked again. "Come on, now. You don't have to talk to me, but open the damn door, so I know you're not dead." It was meant to be a joke, but he actually started feeling a bit uncomfortable. 

Actors are weirdos, he knew that. And Rick was no exception, but something about the way he had acted seemed off. It seemed as though he had really been upset and not just throwing a tantrum.

The click of the lock brought him out of his thoughts. He waited for a moment, releasing a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. Then he opened the door and went inside. 

Rick was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. Cliff looked around. There were some whiskey bottles, but they were standing on a counter at the other side of the trailer. Rick didn't seem to have been drinking. That was weird. 

He walked towards the couch and after hesitating for a moment he sat down. "Hey, there, buddy," he said. "What's going on?"

He wasn't expecting an answer, but he also wasn't expecting sobbing. Rick tried to keep it quiet, but his shoulders were shaking slightly. 

Cliff didn't know what to do or even what to think. He longed for the days when he could just fall off a horse or take a punch or even get shot. And then someone would yell "Cut!" and Rick would beam at him, always asking if he was ok.

He slowly put his arm around Rick's shoulder, ready to withdraw it at any moment, should Rick decide to push him away. When that didn't happen, he pulled Rick a bit closer.

Cliff almost flinched when Rick suddenly turned toward him and burried his face in Cliff's neck. Cliff could feel the tears slowly seeping into his shirt. 

He managed to stay mostly calm. He held Rick with one arm and with the other he softly patted Ricks's back, saying "It's ok, it's fine, you're ok," over and over again.

They sat like this for a while and eventually Rick started to calm down. He pulled away from Cliff and wiped at his face, his eyes not meeting Cliff's. "Thanks," he mumbled. 

"No problem," Cliff said. "I'm gonna get a drink. You want a drink?" he asked, mostly so that he would have something to do. Rick nodded. Cliff got up and poured two whiskeys. He handed one to Rick.

"You wanna tell me what just happened?" he asked. Rick looked like he wanted to sink into the ground. "I'm not mad," Cliff said quickly. "And I'm not judging. You can tell me. I won't say anything to anyone. Promise."

Rick furrowed his brow. "What d-do you mean, what happened?" he asked. "I t-totally fucked up. Shit, everyone saw, you s-saw it too. I'm a total f-fucking f-failure and everyone knows. A-and they're g-gonna get r-rid of me s-sooner or later." He started crying again.

"Woah, stop, no," Cliff pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Rick. "Look at me, man." He waited till Rick did. "You're not a failure. Alright? You just messed up some lines. That happens. Happens to everyone." Had happened to you before, he thought, but didn't say.

Cliff leaned back and downed his whiskey. He pointed at Rick with the glass still in his hand. "You're Rick fucking Dalton! You're the star of the show and noone's gonna replace you." He got up. "Now drink up, wash your face and come back to set."

He half expected Rick to tell him to fuck off or to just break down again, but his little speech seemed to have worked. Rick emptied his glass and got up. "I'll be right out," he said. Cliff nodded and opened the door.

1961

"Cut! Ok, that's it for today!" Cliff got up and dusted himself off. "You ok?" Cliff turned around. Rick was looking at him with a strange look on his face.

"I'm fine," Cliff said and walked towards him. "You still here? I thought you were done shooting an hour ago." "Yeah, well," Rick scratched the back of his neck and Cliff knew that he was trying to build up the nerve to say something. He waited.

"I w-was wondering if, m-maybe you'd wanted to watch the g-game tonight?" Rick said after a while. He smiled at Cliff, but he looked nervous, which Cliff honestly didn't get. During the last year they had become pretty good friends and he liked to think that he might have gotten to know him pretty well.

"Sure thing, buddy," Cliff said. And just like that Rick's face lit up. Cliff had to smile. This was one of the things he had learned about Rick. There were extreme lows and those were, well, not easy. But just as quick there could be extreme highs and Cliff had come to appreciate those quite a lot.

"Alright," Rick said, still beaming. "I-I'll see you around eight a-at my p-place then?" "Count on it."

"You want another beer?" Cliff asked and stood up. "Yeah, sure," Rick replied, still looking at the tv. Cliff walked into the kitchen and got two more beers from the fridge. He sat back down and winced. 

"You ok?" Rick asked. "Yeah, it's fine. I guess, I did get a bit more bruised up than I expected," Cliff said. He handed one beer to Rick and opened the other one.

"I don't g-get how you're not bruised up all the t-time. With all the f-falling off of horses and f-fistfights and shit." Cliff shrugged. "You get used to it. And there are some tricks to it, to make it hurt less."

"Oh, yeah? You can learn how to g-get your ass k-kicked without actually g-getting your ass kicked?" Cliff snorted. "In a way." "Can you sh-show me?" Cliff looked at Rick. He thought for a while. "Sure, why not? Now?" 

Rick looked like he had second thoughts and Cliff was sure he would decline. But after a moment he nodded.

"Alright." Cliff put down his beer and got up, he felt a bit more drunk than was probably wise for a sparring session, but he had discovered early on that he couldn't really deny Rick anything.

Rick got up as well and his movements seemed a bit uncoordinated as well. Cliff moved the couch table and the recliner chair. 

"The most important thing is knowing how to fall down the right way." Cliff lifted his right arm and with his left hand he pointed to his forearm and outstreched flat palm. "Make sure to always land on this. Kind of slam it on the ground as you land. Never land on your elbow, you will mess it up."

He demonstrated it and as he got up Rick had that nervous look on his face again. "You don't have to," Cliff said. Rick seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. "No, no, it's f-fine." He tried what Cliff had shown him. He looked up. "That d-didn't hurt at all. This really w-works." 

"Yeah, it does." Cliff held out his hand. Rick grabbed it and Cliff pulled him up. They were standing very close now. Rick looked to the side and then back a Cliff. "What else c-can you show me?"

Cliff hesitated a moment. Then he said "This!" And at the same time he grabbed Rick's upper arms and swept his legs out from under him. Rick fell backwards and actually managed to stretch out his right arm, landing just the way Cliff had showed him.

Cliff smiled at that, although he had had things under control and would have been able to keep Rick from landing wrong. Once Rick was on his back Cliff straddled him and put one hand on Rick's chest, holding him down. He could feel Rick's heart beating through his shirt.

Rick looked up at him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "What's the l-lesson here?" he asked. "The lesson here," Cliff emphasized his words by slightly increasing the pressure on Rick's chest. "Is that in a real fight you need the element of surprise." He paused. "And when doing a stunt you need to be able to trust the other guy."

Rick nodded. "I think I g-get it." "You do?" "Yeah." And suddenly Rick grabbed Cliff's shirt and pulled him down. Then he kissed him hard on the mouth. Cliff lost his balance and also any awareness of what was going on and that's how Rick managed to roll them over and end up on top of him.

Rick was straddling Cliff and had his wrists pinned to the floor, but with not much pressure. He looked at Cliff with an anxious expression. Cliff looked up at him. "So, is this a real fight and that's why you used the element of surprise?" he asked. 

"No, this is a s-stunt and I know that I c-can trust you," Rick said. He let go of Cliff's wrists and leaned back, waiting. Cliff considered this for a moment. "Alright." He reached up and pulled Rick back down on top of him.

1962

A phone was ringing. And it was the most horrible sound in the world. And he would fucking murder somebody if it didn't stop soon. Cliff absolutely did not want to open his eyes. He had a headache and felt not ready to be awake and try to figure out what was going on.

He felt the bed shifting and heard steps leading away from the bedroom and towards the phone. He drifted off again. But only for a moment.

"Cliff, hey, w-wake up!" Cliff felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and sat up. He was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt and he felt like shit. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Rick who didn't seem to be in any better shape. He was wearing slacks and a crumpled dress shirt and his hair was a mess.

"What the fuck is going on?" "The studio called. Apparantly they n-need to do some fucking reshoots. And they need to d-do them, like, yesterday or some shit." "The fuck is that supposed to mean? Didn't we just have a season wrap party? Isn't that why my head is killing me?"

"I don't know, man. Some r-reel got b-busted or lost or whatever. I just know they w-want us on s-set as soon as possible." Rick leaned forward and was very still for a moment. Cliff knew he was trying not to throw up. "Well, great. I'll go shower first," Cliff sighed and got up.

They arrived on set about two hours later which, as far as Cliff was concerned, was a fucking miracle. Especially considering that he was pretty sure he had died at some point. He sat in the passenger seat, not looking forward at all to having to move. 

Rick had done the driving because he was slightly less hopelessly hungover. And when his career was concerned Rick would do absolutely anything that was asked of him. Cliff kind of understood that, since he would do absolutely anything Rick would ask of him. That was something he had learned during last couple of years. And he was fine with that.

Luckily they had to do only a few scenes. Rick was up first and Cliff used that time to try and nap on the couch in Rick's trailer. He actually managed to fall asleep for a bit, but when Rick woke him up, he still felt awful.

He made himself a drink in hopes of making it through the next few hours. Then he made his way towards the saloon which he would be thrown out of. Again, godammit, be thought.

The first couple of takes went fine enough. He usually could do all this stuff in his sleep and he managed to pull of most of the moves without anyone noticing that he was winging it. 

That last fall didn't go all that smoothly, though. Cliff landed wrong somehow and hit the back of his head pretty hard on the ground. It must have looked good enough, however, since shortly after he heard the long awaited "Cut!" 

The crew started to leave and Cliff decided to stay on the ground for a little while longer, because, why not? He heard footsteps approaching and when he opened his eyes Rick had entered his field of vision. He looked a bit worried. He had probably been paying more attention than anyone else. Despite the poundig in his head, Cliff felt all fuzzy and warm inside all of the sudden.

"Hey there, b-buddy. You wanna g-get up?" Rick held out his hand. Cliff braced himself and then slowly sat up. He touched the back of his head and his hand came back bloody. Not much, just a few drops, but Rick's eyes widened. He opened his mouth, no doubt to yell for a medic or something. "Shut up," Cliff hissed. 

"I didn't say anything, but I f-fucking should," Rick hissed back. "Cliff sighed. "It's not a big deal and I don't want any fuss. I feel like crap and I just wanna sleep, ok?" He looked at Rick and he could see that he would get what he wanted. It was true that he would do anything Rick asked, but he was pretty sure the opposite was true as well.

"Fine," Rick rolled his eyes. "C-come on, get up. Let's g-get you home." Cliff smiled. He liked it when Rick called it home instead of my place. "But if you feel worse or black out, I'll d-drop your ass at the hospital."

Once they were back Cliff went straight to the bedroom. He toed off his shoes and dropped down on the bed. He closed his eyes. He heard Rick entering the room and going into the bathroom, then he heard water running. 

"Turn over," Rick said and pushed at Cliff's shoulder. Cliff flinched slightly, he had almost been asleep. "You know, I'm really not in the mood," he said, but he rolled over on his stomach anyway. "Just don't expect me to do much."

"Fucking hilarious, y-you ass," Rick said and knelt down beside him. Cliff felt Rick's hand in his hair, searching for the cut. Then Rick started cleaning the blood off. Cliff drifted off.

When Cliff awoke some time later, he found himself under the blanket and Rick quietly snoring next to him. He closed his eyes again.

1964

"Rick? You home?" Cliff walked into the house and closed the door. He had been at his trailer the last week while Rick had some auditions lined up. He had expected Rick to call him once he was done, but that would have been two days ago and there hadn't been a call.

He slowly walked through the house, no Rick. But the car was in the driveway, so he had to be here somewhere. Cliff started to feel uneasy. He went on and saw that the patio door was open. Outside he saw Rick floating on his pool with his eyes closed and headphones on.

Cliff was relieved, but he was also pissed, because he had been worried. He looked around and picked up an empty been can. Then he threw it at Rick. Bullseye! Rick jumped out of his skin and almost fell into the water.

He ripped his headphones off. "What the f-fuck, you- you asshole!" Cliff lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. He exhaled. "You're the fucking asshole, you jerk. Why didn't you call me?"

At that all the fight seemed to have left Rick. He looked down and bit his lip. Cliff waited. He knew there was no point asking again. He just kept looking at Rick. Rick pulled himself to the edge of the pool and got off the chair.

He walked towards Cliff and glanced at him. Then he quickly looked away again. "I d-didn't get it," he said. "Which one?" "All of them, n-none, whatever. Nothing." 

Cliff took another drag of his cigarette. This was going to be tricky. "I'm really sorry, partner," he said. "Wanna go get a pizza?" Rick looked at him. "What are you t-talking about? Didn't you just hear what I s-said?"

"I heard you. Not much we can about that now, right? So, let's get something to eat, get wasted. Do something, whatever." 

"Are you fucking k-kidding me? I'm t-telling you that my life is f-fucking over and you think getting something t-to eat is gonna f-fix things?" Rick grabbed the nearest thing which happened to be a table with empty bottles on it and he flipped it over. 

Cliff took a step back and held up his hands. "Come on, man. I'm on your side. Your life is not over. You got some bad news. You should have gotten the parts. But you didn't. It sucks. But that's it." 

Rick had tears streaming down his face now. "Y-yeah, damn right, that's it! What am I supposed to do now? If I-I don't have a job, you don't have a job and you'll have to l-look for a job somewhere else and what am I g-gonna do?"

Cliff's brain screetched to a halt. What? He stood there with his hands up, kind of frozen in place. Rick looked at him with red eyes. 

"Is that what got you so upset, man? You think I'm gonna leave?" Rick blinked. He just seemed to realize what he had said and he looked like he wanted to run away. It fucking broke Cliff's heart.

"W-well," Rick ran his hand through his hair. "I mean, I d-don't know, like, what- what you wanna do..." He trailed of.

Cliff found that he was able to move again and slowly walked towards Rick. "Hey," he said softly. He put his hands on Rick's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He soothingly stroked Rick's back and felt Rick sobbing against his neck. "I'm not going anywhere," he said. "You don't ever have to worry about that."

They stood like that for a while.

1966

Cliff sat at the bar, drinking his second Bloody Mary. He heard the door open and turned his head. This time it was Rick who walked in. And he looked happy. Cliff turned around fully and got up. "How did it go?"

"Great! It went g-great," Rick slapped Cliff's shoulder. That was pretty much the peak of physical affection they dared to display in public. They both sat down and Rick ordered a Whiskey Sour and another Bloody Mary for Cliff.

"I g-got the part," he said, lighting a cigarette. "And you're g-gonna do the stunts." He beamed at Cliff and Cliff couldn't help but smile back. Rick in a good mood was his favorite thing and he never got tired of it and he kept being amazed at how much he loved it.

"That's perfect!" Cliff held up his glass. "To Rick fucking Dalton!" "To Cliff fucking Booth!" They both drank. "So, when do we start?" "Three w-weeks." "Alright."

After quite a few more drinks they were in no condition to drive, so Rick called for a taxi. "You're coming back to my p-place, right?" he asked. "Damn right, I am," Cliff said. "Been waiting for it since you walked in here." 

After much fumbling Rick managed to open the front door. He walked inside and threw his keys on the kitchen counter. He was reaching for a glass, but suddenly Cliff was behind him and grabbed both his wrists and pulled his arms behind his back. 

"Hey, what the f-fuck? Yu almost g-gave me a heartattack!" "Well, as long as I have your attention now," Cliff said as he steered Rick towards the bedroom. "I want a-another drink." "No, you don't," Cliff said and pushed Rick onto the bed. He moved to get on top of him, but Rick grinned and rolled to the side, making Cliff miss him by inches.

Cliff grinned back at him. "I see, you paid attention." He looked at Rick, planning his next move. "Well, y-yeah. How c-could I-" Cliff didn't let him finish and practically jumped at Rick, ending up straddling him. Right after that Rick grabbed Cliff's hair und pulled him down for a kiss.

Cliff kissed him back for a while, then he sat up again. "You know, you can't distract me like that anymore, right?" Rick looked up at him. "Who says I-I wanna d-distract you?" He asked while shifting a bit. He grinned when I saw that this had the intended effect on Cliff. 

"What the h-hell are you w-waiting for?" Instead of answering Cliff moved one knee between Ricks legs and leaned down for another kiss.

1968

It was almost 1pm and Cliff was sitting in his car outside the police station smoking one cigarette after another. He had gotten a phone call from Rick over two hours ago to please, please, please pick him up. There was also some stuff about him being really sorry he was such a mess and some sobbing. He had also sounded very drunk.

Cliff had just told him to relax and not to worry and of course he would come pick him up. He had ended with "Now pull yourself together, man. You're Rick fucking Dalton." Because you never knew who was listening and what they would talk about.

Then he had grabbed some stuff, loaded it in the car and had Brandy jump in as well. He had the feeling that Rick required more than just a lift this night.

Finally he saw Rick coming out of the building and walking in his direction. He looked like hell and seemed to have blood on his face. Rick opened he door and sat down in the passenger seat.

Cliff turned around. "What the hell happened, man? Are you ok?" He grabbed Rick's chin and turned his face around, inspecting what he could now see was a cut on Rick's forehead. Rick slapped at his hands. "Not here," he said. "C-can you d-drive me home, please?" 

"Yeah, sure," Cliff started driving. "But you better tell me right now, who did this to you, so that I can kill them." Rick looked at him with big eyes. Then he looked straight ahead again. "That w-would be me." Cliff waited. "I g-got into an accident. I was d-drunk and they took my license."

Cliff's hands grabbed the steering wheel so tight that they turned white. He concentrated on breathing and staying calm. Breathe in, don't yell, it won't help, breathe out, this is how he is and that won't change, breathe in, it could be worse, breathe out, he's still alive and that's the most important thing.

Rick sat beside him, sunken into the seat, no doubt feeling miserable. After a while Cliff relaxed enough to trust himself to speak again. "So, what you're saying is, that you need a driver?" he asked and looked at Rick, smiling. Rick smiled back, looking relieved.

"I guess," Rick said. "You up f-for that?" "Sure, why not?" They drove the rest of the way in silence.

Rick opened the door and Brandy ran straight inside and jumped on her favorite spot on the couch. Cliff carried his stuff inside and went on to the bathroom. "Come on, let me take a look at your head," he said. Rick followed him. 

Cliff cleaned the cut and put a little bandaid on it. "Damn stupid of you," he said. "You're lucky this probably won't scar." "Well, you're f-full of scars and you're just fine." Cliff raised his eyebrows. "My face is not the money maker."

Rick snorted. "You r-really know how to m-make a guy feel special," he said and yawned. "I try," Cliff said and put away the first aid kit. "Let's go to bed."

They settled on the bed with Brandy at their feet. 

\----------


End file.
